


Until the Death of Me

by Furihana_Ioyasu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Bellamort, Death Eaters, Denial, F/M, Not So Evil Voldemort, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Voldemort, Post-Azkaban, Reminiscing, Reunion, Rough Sex, Sane Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furihana_Ioyasu/pseuds/Furihana_Ioyasu
Summary: After fourteen years, Bellatrix is finally freed from imprisonment in Azkaban.Bellatrix continues her advances towards his Lord and Master.Voldemort tries to establish his control but he still struggles with erasing the last vestiges of humanity left in him.A lot has changed, but some feelings stay the same.





	1. Until the Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Because I’ve read almost all of Bellamort fan fictions, I figured out it’s time to write my own headcanon of their pairing. I’ve started writing this before, but I only managed to finish it lately because I’m too preoccupied reading other fan fictions. ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: JK owns Harry Potter. If I did, then Bellamort and their Death Eaters would be ruling the world.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Lord is finally reunited with Bellatrix after 14 years. The vivid memories of the past increased her longing.

 

_“My loyal death eaters…” Voldemort’s soft voice cut against the silence as he appraised his newly freed Death Eaters kneeled before him. A ghost of a smile appeared on his snake-like face, and his eyes brimmed with pride._

_The ten figures on the floor all looked down in respect except for one – a skinny woman with unruly hair and heavy-lidded eyes who, despite her exhaustion, craned upward and watched his master adoringly._

_Voldemort’s gaze then dropped to the woman nearest him, his eyes focusing as he quietly added,_

_“You will all be rewarded beyond your dreams.”_

_The woman’s eyes brimmed with tears and her gaping mouth tried to form words – the dryness of her throat constricting her voice, “Th-thank you… Master.”_

* * *

 Bellatrix reminisced that feeling of triumph and sheer joy when she was finally reunited with her Master. It was one of the happiest moments in her life. Thirteen years, she waited. Thirteen years, she endured.

Just for him.

For all her years in Azkaban she never once felt anything but despair, fear, and madness.

_Not anymore._

She grinned in remembering his master’s last words.

Oh, how she craved her reward.

Immediately after their breakout from Azkaban, she was forced to stay inside a large guest room of her brother in law’s Manor to recover from the effects of her imprisonment. Though she hated it, Bellatrix accepted her fate. She wouldn’t want his Master to see her in a weakened state again. But now, weeks after she had last seen him, Bellatrix is almost fully recovered. With proper nourishment and a little magic, she is slowly returning to her former body.

Bellatrix went out of her bed to walk towards the window of the large room. She looked outside wondering when his Master is going to see her. Although Malfoy Manor was turned into the main headquarters of the Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort is constantly on the move to execute their plans.

 _Always a man of action_ , Bellatrix thought with a smile on her face.

Her mind raced back to everything that she loved about her master. She remembered when she joined the Death Eaters, Bellatrix was not yet as deeply devoted to him as she was today. It wasn’t love at first sight – no, Bellatrix was above such petty fascinations. At first, it was a strong belief to their cause that compelled her to join. She believed what Voldemort campaigned for: a world where muggles are put in their proper place, without mudbloods and blood traitors tarnishing the pure blood families of the wizarding world. She also admired his charm and his wit. She adored the way his words seemed to flow gracefully in his speeches; the way his beliefs always appeared to be right. But she didn’t worship him. At first, at least.

Her initial curiosity and respect for him soon turned to admiration, to desire, to love, and finally to utter devotion. As a young girl she refused to simply watch from a corner and let the adults plan the reformation of the wizarding world. She needed to take part; not just for her own ideals, but for her adoration to the Dark Lord. Even as she was accepted to the Death Eaters' elite circle, she wanted more; her need to be closer to Voldemort pushed her to prove herself more capable than the others. And the more her Lord turned her away, the more she became headstrong. She was that stubborn – and probably childish – that she would not give up her longing for closeness. Even if her Lord would not respond to her in the way she wants, Bellatrix would be content in simply being near him.

That was how she lived ever since she fell for him – thriving in the smallest of contacts and making the most out of the simplest of moments: may it be praise, a simple touch in the shoulder, or a smirk directed towards her. Even when he was angry with her, Bellatrix would still find it in herself to admire him. Of course, she never angers him on purpose – as much as she loves the attention, she didn’t want to fail her master.

Bellatrix suddenly missed her trainings in the Dark Arts with Voldemort. Even when she graduated at Hogwarts, there was still a lot to learn. Voldemort made her to be one of the best Masters of the Dark Arts by training her himself. In one of those lessons, Bellatrix still remembered vividly, the day he finally claimed her for his own. She would never forget that day when her Master finally responded to her pursuits, and in doing so paved way for more of their encounters. She acknowledged that it was purely physical for him. Voldemort made it clear to her that he isn't someone to invest emotional feelings towards another. Bellatrix didn't mind any of it. She was happy to receive anything her Master granted to her. 

Bellatrix's mind started to drift once more to the past but then she saw movement from the corner of her eye. A black figure glided through the gates of the Malfoy Manor and towards the house. Bellatrix pressed her face on the window to better see who it was. She couldn’t see the face clearly, but she was sure that it was Lord Voldemort. It became clearer to her as the figure neared – from the manner in which he walked smoothly with his robes flowing almost ethereally behind him; the way his head tilted upwards in silent confidence, and how he delicately holds his wand on his left hand, while his folded right arm hung on his side.

Bellatrix felt a surge of excitement pass through her.

_Finally!_

 She beamed in anticipation as she hurriedly exited her room to greet her master downstairs.

As she rounded the large staircase to the Manor’s foyer, she could hear the faint conversation of Lucius and her Lord. Her pace quickened when she saw the two golden heads facing the tall and pale figure of her Master.

“…and I’ll be staying here for a week or two to plan our-” Voldemort stopped in his tracks when he saw Bellatrix appear on the stairs.

Bellatrix’s eyes were immediately glued to his Master’s even as she descended the last steps of the grand staircase. Lucius and Narcissa followed Voldemort’s gaze and saw Bella standing just below the staircase, breathing heavily, mouth agape and eyes intently staring at her lord. Lucius gave her a lopsided smirk, while Narcissa smiled warmly at her.

“Bellatrix…” Voldemort finally addressed her. He found it curious how her name rolled off his tongue so naturally despite not being able to say it for years.

Bellatrix’s eyes watered at how beautiful her name sounded at the voice of his master. Unable to contain her joy, she lowered her head to hide her tearful expression.

Voldemort slowly moved towards her, seemingly forgetting his conversation with Lucius. He wore his calm expression as usual, but his eyes were slowly moving, examining her fully like a serpent watching his prey.  As he stopped in front of her, he gently grasped her chin and lifted it to look at her eyes.

Voldemort stroke her cheeks as if trying to remember the feeling of her skin under his touch.

“It’s been a while, Bella,” he breathed quietly. Bellatrix was grateful to hear him use her nickname once again. _He hadn’t forgotten,_ she thought. 

They were dangerously close now; they were simply staring at each other’s eyes. Narcissa looked on in curiosity, while Lucius shifted uncomfortably at the sight.

After examining her face for a little while, Voldemort pursed his lips and suddenly let go of her. His head whipped back to Narcissa and Lucius, “I hope my accommodation is already prepared?”

Lucius bowed in respect, “Yes, my lord.”

“My lord is always welcome here,” Narcissa added with a smile.

Voldemort nodded and turned back to Bellatrix. "I'll be seeing you in a few minutes," he regarded her for a moment, and then quickly went up the stairs towards the master bedroom reserved for him.

Bellatrix followed his Master with her eyes until he disappeared out of her sight. She licked her dry lips and turned to Narcissa when she addressed her, "You should be resting, Bella."

"I'm already well rested, Cissy." She responded breathlessly, her mind still busy thinking about her Master.

Lucius scoffed at that. "Only because you've seen the Dark Lord. Aren't you such a simpleton?" He remarked with a smirk on his face.

Bellatrix simply glared at him. Although irritated at him, she admitted that she missed haughty Lucius' teasing a little.

"You know, you really should see to him. I'm sure you both have _a lot_ of catching up to do." He added with a mocking tone.

Bellatrix flushed in embarrassment, but nevertheless went back up the stairs to her room. She wasn't going to barge in his Master's room uninvited.

Everyone knew about his obsession with the Dark Lord, and in the past some of the Death Eaters make it a habit to tease her about it. They never do it in front of the Dark Lord of course – they knew he would not be pleased. He never really showed any hint of his relationship with Bellatrix in front of his followers. Sometimes, Voldemort would unintentionally show subtle hints – remarks and gestures that made his closest followers suspect something about him and Bella. Although Bellatrix never acknowledged any of their insinuations, Lucius always seemed to be certain.

As she opened the door to her own room, Bellatrix felt her Dark Mark burn. For a moment, she reveled at the pain on her arm.

 _I missed this_ , she thought.

She smirked to herself and hurried out of her room to visit her Master. 

* * *

 

Bellatrix strode the hallways to the room she remembered to be the one that was always reserved to Voldemort. He often visited Lucius’ father, Abraxas Malfoy, to discuss plans in the past. Later on it was used as the Death Eaters’ usual meeting place. As she found what she believed to be the master's bedroom, she knocked thrice on the door, waiting for her Lord's confirmation before entering.

"Come in, Bella." She heard him say. She composed herself before entering.

Voldemort was standing against the windowsill, inspecting his wand before turning to look at her. Bellatrix closed the door behind her, and immediately walked to him and kneeled.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. For what reason, Bellatrix didn't know.

"Stand," he commanded rather harshly.

As she stood, she flicked her gaze to him. Bellatrix gaped as she clearly saw the new face of her Master, thanks to the light from the window. Despite having a snake-like appearance, she can still see traces of the mortal man he once was. His deep set eyes that pierced through her and his often frowning thin lips are both very familiar. His voice felt colder and sounded harsher to her ears but nevertheless possesses that same tonal quality that is uniquely his. Her gaze traveled down to his slightly exposed chest, and she admired how the light material of his robes flowed down his lithe form. Most would probably be repulsed by his pale skin and sickly appearance, but Bella felt a twinge of desire sparked within her.

As if sensing a change in her mood, Voldemort cast a silent _Legilimens_ to know her thoughts.

He expected uncertainty, even repulsion, from Bellatrix. Instead he saw adoration, the same love and devotion she felt towards him even before his downfall. He almost forgot why he branded her as his most faithful.

As he pulled away from her mind, a smirk slowly crept up his face. Voldemort felt amused after seeing her thoughts. He beckoned Bella to him, "Come, girl."

Bellatrix smiled as she made her way towards him, finding it funny to hear him address her again as such even after thirteen years. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing, "I don't think that word is appropriate for me anymore, my Lord."

Voldemort scoffed in response, "Ah yes. You’re a woman now, aren't you?" Voldemort couldn't help but let his eyes travel Bella's body.

Instead of shying away like years before, Bella stared up at him fiercely. When Voldemort stared back at her, he saw her eyes swimming with lust.

His amused expression turned into dourness. "Fourteen years it’s been, Bella." Voldemort sighed at her, not believing she still desired him after all those years.

"Nothing's changed to me, my Lord. Everything else might have changed, but not me. Not my devotion to you… Master." She countered breathlessly, her eyes widening as she gawked at him.

Voldemort clenched his teeth at that, remembering everything he prized about Bellatrix.

He remembered how she'd lovingly gazed up at him the first time they met. She had enthusiastically expressed her admiration for him and his views. And when he reached to read her mind, he saw the potential she had. He knew it was only a matter of time before she worshipped him completely. True enough, before graduating at Hogwarts she presented herself to him and pleaded to become a Death Eater. She was certainly useful, infinitely passionate, and fiercely beautiful. For a time, Voldemort promised to himself that he wouldn’t engage in pleasures of the flesh. At first he refused Bella’s subtle advances, until he couldn’t endure it any more. It was distracting him, to say the least. Bella made him almost a slave to lust, and he considers this as a terrible weakness. Now that they’ve reunited, he was a changed man. And he wouldn’t allow himself to indulge in petty dalliances again.

But when Voldemort looked at Bellatrix, he couldn’t contain the feeling of relief in seeing her again. Before his downfall he already acknowledged that there was something more to his desire for her than simply being physical. He never told her about it though, and he still didn’t intend to. After 14 years, he thought the feelings would dissipate. But now that she’s standing in front of him, worshipping him still with every fiber of her being, a surge of sentiment flowed through him.

_My fierce warrior, my most loyal._

He sighed once more as he looked at her.

Seeing the slightest change in the way her Master gazed at her, she moved closer to him. Voldemort brought his left hand to cup her cheek, and Bellatrix almost purred in response.

“My Lord, I’ve missed you.” Bella’s eyes closed to stop her tears from running down her cheeks.

Voldemort continued examining her face, and finally said, “Clearly.” His smirk was back on his features, and Bella smiled back at him as she opened her eyes.

There was so much that Bella wanted to tell his Master; she suffered 14 years of longing in Azkaban after all. Voldemort too, wanted to continue questioning her; wanted to confirm her loyalties, her feelings, her love. But as they gazed at each others’ eyes, they both knew.

Nothing in the past mattered anymore. Everything else might have changed but they both knew that their connection never vanished.

Voldemort leaned in to kiss her lightly, as if experimenting the feeling of his new lips touching Bella’s. Bellatrix kissed back and soon they were both passionately kissing, spurred on by the moment. Lips clashed, tongues explored, and their hands moved demandingly on each other’s bodies. The hunger to touch and taste each other overwhelmed their senses.

Voldemort then willed himself to stop. He slowly pulled away, to Bellatrix’s disappointment.

He smirked at seeing her scowl. She tried to kiss him again, but Voldemort stopped her with his firm grip on her nape.

How he missed teasing his Bella.

Out of nowhere, Bellatrix suddenly declared, “I love you, my Lord.”

Voldemort simply stared at her thoughtfully, as if absorbing the meaning of those words. Bellatrix knew he couldn’t answer her; she wasn’t expecting him to, anyway. She felt that it was just a statement needed to be said.

Finally, Voldemort smiled wryly, “After all these years?”

“Until the death of me.” She responded confidently. 

 


	2. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort reminisce his previous life and his past relationship with Bellatrix. His fondness of her was a mistake. Now he decided he needed more control. Will he be able to keep his calm demeanor around her?

Voldemort sat quietly at the Malfoy Manor's library, with books about wandlore neatly lined on his desk by the window. From his last encounter with Harry Potter in the graveyard, he knew that there was something wrong with his wand. Surely the connection of their wands as brothers sharing the same core could not be so strong that he felt he was unable to kill the boy. He browsed the books for relevant information, constantly scribbling notes to a piece of parchment.

  
As Voldemort continued his research, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. The Dark Lord peered through the glass of the window and saw a small, hooded figure approaching the manor. His throat bobbed when he realized that it was Bellatrix, apparently finished from a mission he assigned a few weeks ago.

  
Where Voldemort was once ecstatic about reuniting with Bellatrix, now he was uncertain.  It has been a month after he freed her from Azkaban. The night of their private reunion, he felt a newfound passion for Bellatrix.

  
She incited feelings of nostalgia in him; all those days he spent training her in the Dark Arts, and the night he took her for the first time. Voldemort reveled at the charm he once possessed - how women easily fall for him simply because of his powerful presence and undeniable wit. Not that he was in the constant company of women - he only entertains the desires of women if he wanted something from them.

  
Except for Bellatrix. _She was always the exception._ For a time, he admitted to have constantly wanted her. He had never felt the need to take a woman for physical release.  Until Bellatrix.

  
_Seducer_.

  
He thought for a time that he might be under a powerful spell or potion - but no, he had checked and counterchecked with numerous books and the aid of his resident Death Eater and Potions Master, Severus Snape. He was certain that the woman did nothing to him. And so the constant punishments came. He deliberately punishes Bellatrix whenever he felt like he was seduced into doing her bidding. Of course, there were times that he was the one who initated it, and admitted that he did so simply for physical release. He sometimes found his lust uncontrollable; and sex, as he remembered it, was addicting after all.

  
Voldemort was not at all bothered by the fact that Bellatrix had married Rodolphus Lestrange; they both knew she did it simply out of duty - to forge an alliance between the pureblood families of Black and Lestrange.

  
The wedding was a sudden arrangement between their families. To the credit of the Blacks and Lestranges, Voldemort was consulted about it by the heads of each family. Though he wanted Bellatrix for himself, he will not take her as a lover (she was close to one, but Voldemort will never admit it), and he certainly will not marry her. Seeing as he had no good reason to prevent the two from marrying. Voldemort gave his consent. Bellatrix hated the arrangement but stopped protesting against it when Voldemort gave his final word. After their wedding, Bellatrix assured Voldemort - though he needed no such thing - that she will always be faithful to him despite being a married woman. Rodolphus, though he found Bellatrix attractive, never tried to be intimate with Bellatrix out of fear of Voldemort. Still, the pride that comes with marrying a Black makes him constantly flaunt the small intimacies he could get with his wife.

  
During Death Eater gatherings, Voldemort would witness Rodolphus’ small advances towards Bellatrix; an affectionate brush of his hand to her cheek, a whisper to her ear or a touch on her waist - nothing too intimate but still enough for Voldemort to notice. Perhaps Bellatrix felt compelled to play the loyal pureblood wife, so she let him touch her.

  
It meant nothing, Voldemort reminded himself. Knowing that, he still could not help but feel contempt every time he sees them together. It was not jealousy, because he knew Bellatrix will always be loyal to him. It was possessiveness.

  
How dare Rodolphus put his hands on her? Does he think himself worthy to touch Bellatrix, when she rightly belongs to him, the Dark Lord? He hated the feeling of possessiveness he had towards Bellatrix. He constantly struggled with these thoughts and would occasionally vent out his anger by torturing some Muggle imprisoned in the Malfoy Manor dungeons.

  
Voldemort was glad that he took Bellatrix for his own years ago - when she was still young and beautiful. He had already marked her his, even before she was forced into an arranged marriage to Lestrange.

Voldemort cringed at the realization that Bellatrix now carries that surname. Bellatrix is his, in heart and mind; he knew that. But that surname is a slap on his face; a reminder that Bella belongs to her husband and not to him. He was very much satisfied to know that Bellatrix does not even wear her wedding ring, and that she barely talked with her husband after their release from Azkaban. It exposed the nature of their marriage as what it really is - a farce. They never even attempted to make an heir. Almost everyone in the Death Eaters’ elite circle knew the kind of relationship Bellatrix had with the Dark Lord. Like everyone else, Rodolphus knew his place - no one would dare cross Lord Voldemort by bedding his prized lieutenant.

  
Voldemort shook his head visibly. He stood from his desk and leaned on the window. He never really had time for his own thoughts ever since he came back. He was constantly on the move, pillaging, torturing and killing. Holding meetings and coordinating with different individuals. Now that the busyness died down in the past days, his thoughts always drift to the past. Not to purposely reminisce but to constantly check and monitor his actions.

  
He stared outside with distant eyes. It was starting to rain, and the sound of the raindrops seemed to help him reflect on his past actions.

  
After his resurrection he resolved to become colder and more calculating than his former self. His downfall was due more to his errors than to the credit of his enemies. He vowed to completely erase the human in him - if there was still any shred of it left.

  
But then he freed Bellatrix from Azkaban. His carefully guarded resolve unexpectedly broke when they met again. Want and longing. He never thought he was capable of experiencing such feelings again. She was always the exception to his rules.

  
It was bizarre, for they were very different now; both are past their prime. Bellatrix retained some vestiges of the beauty she had before rotting in Azkaban thanks to a rejuvenating potion. But Voldemort simply changed drastically in his physical appearance. Surprisingly, Bellatrix does not seem to mind; she continued her advances towards him as if nothing changed.

  
While he acknowledges the raw need he had for her, the other side of him was repulsed at how human-like he acted despite being someone striving for immortality. It was a hindrance, he knew; for in the days that followed after their reunion, his thoughts were constantly clouded by lust.

  
During Death Eater meetings, he sometimes couldn't stop himself from mentally disrobing Bellatrix from where she sat at his side. When he ordered her around, he felt himself twitch at the sight of her wide eyes and gaping mouth, as if she's always ready to kneel and give him _service_. Catching the sight of those heaving breasts of hers whenever she bows, a mental image would play on Voldemort’s head- how he would shove her down and plunder her until he’s satisfied.

  
His anger at himself for feeling this way makes him want to punish Bellatrix. But he feared that he might not have enough self control to stop the punishment from becoming something _else_. And it didn't help that Bellatrix followed him like a loyal dog. She was everywhere, to Voldemort's distress. Only when he purposely sent her on a mission for a week did he finally had the chance to gather himself.

  
Voldemort was reminded of her words to him during their reunion,

  
_Nothing’s changed to me, My Lord. Everything else might have changed, but not me_.

  
He forcibly dispersed his thoughts of her. As the Dark Lord, he must always be in control. Petty feelings must be discarded; he must not be enslaved to his emotions. Attaining release from time to time and the occasional indulgence is as good as catharsis, but having too much of anything will eventually lead to self-destruction.

  
Voldemort sighed as he walked back to his desk. He sat and tried to pick up from where he left off in his study.

Suddenly, a knock was heard from the door, and Voldemort tried to ignore it by internalizing the last passages of the book he was previously reading. He tried rereading it to make sense of the words, and he'd started writing again on his parchment. But as the knocks continue, he gave up and threw his quill on the desk in irritation.

  
He exhaled slowly in an attempt to control his anger. For a moment he simply stared ahead, not wanting to respond to the person outside the door. Especially having a clue on who it is. The knocks continued, however. And he felt no choice but to unlock the door using nonverbal magic.

  
"Enter," he crisply shouted.

  
Bellatrix entered warily, noting the seemingly angry tone of her Master's voice.

  
"My Lord," she bowed reverently.

  
Voldemort looked at her with a serious expression.

  
"What is it?" he snapped.

  
Bellatrix knew his Master was not in a good mood, so it was better to cut to the chase.

  
"I've done as you've commanded, My Lord. I have safely placed the cup you’ve given to me inside my vault at Gringgots."

  
Though the task is very important, he knew Bellatrix was not going to fail such an easy instruction.

  
_Unless someone knew the existence of my horcrux_ , he thought. Voldemort merely nodded and turned to his work, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

  
Bellatrix frowned a bit but did not relent.

  
"Is there something troubling you, My Lord?" And she spoke with that breathless manner that both sparked Voldemort's desire and disgust. Bellatrix boldly inched closer to him until she was within his arm's reach.

  
Voldemort examined her as she stood near him.

  
“My Lord,” she repeated. Her eyes are both wary and probing, her voice both quiet and provoking, her posture laid back yet seductive.

  
Voldemort's eyes lingered on her face, then slowly crept down to her exposed cleavage. The instant she noticed, he turned away. He sighed and leaned back on his chair.

  
"I am… simply tired." He breathed, his arms crossing in front of him. Voldemort’s lips formed a thin line to accompany his stony expression.

  
Bellatrix smiled somewhat mischievously and drawled,

  
"Then let me tend to you, My Lord." The instant Bellatrix finished her sentence, Voldemort's head snapped towards her, giving her a glare that chilled her to the bone.

  
Her expression quickly turned apologetic, and her voice turned serious,

  
"F-Forgive me, My Lord. I shouldn't have suggested such a thing." Her eyes were downcast in apprehension.

  
Voldemort regarded her for a moment. He clicked his tongue,

  
"Actually, you can."

  
Bella's eyes widened as her lowered head whipped back up to look at him. Before she could ask what he meant, Voldemort commanded in a soft voice,

  
"Massage me." He was slightly frowning, and Bellatrix wondered if he was planning something to punish her later.

  
Nevertheless, she obeyed. Bellatrix positioned herself at the back of his chair and gingerly pressed her fingers on his back.

  
Voldemort closed his eyes as she started massaging his shoulders. As Bellatrix's hand repeatedly traveled from his nape to his shoulder blades, Voldemort decided that he could indulge himself a bit.

  
It felt good to him as Bellatrix soothed his tensed muscles. She was pressing harder in areas where his muscles are most stiff, relieving the built tension there. Her hands continued alternating between gentle and firm strokes, and soon Voldemort found himself more aroused than relaxed.

  
As Bellatrix's hands focused on his nape, almost reaching the base of his ears, he felt that he couldn't take it anymore.

  
His hand suddenly shot up and grabbed Bellatrix's hand to stop her from continuing. She looked down at him questioningly, but did not resist.

  
They were both frozen for a moment; Bellatrix awaiting further instructions while Voldemort deciding what to say to her.

  
He swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly let go of her hands.

  
Bellatrix peered into Voldemort’s eyes and saw confusion and - she daresay - slight embarrassment. All of a sudden, he whispered,

  
“Go fetch The History of German Wandlore in the bookshelves.”

  
It was Bellatrix’s turn to appear confused. She did not obey right away; she lingered uncertainly beside Voldemort, who already turned back to his parchment.

   

“My Lo-“ Bellatrix muttered, but she was instantly cut off by Voldemort’s dangerous voice.

  
“Wasn’t I clear enough, Bellatrix? Go.”    

  
Bellatrix nodded and turned to walk towards the bookshelves lined across Voldemort’s side.

  
After feeling himself aroused at Bellatrix’s ministrations, Voldemort had to calm himself by stopping her massaging hands. The first thing he thought was to command Bella to fetch a book just to keep her away from looking at his embarrassment.  Voldemort was thankful for his thick robes that hid his growing erection. He tried to focus and get back to his work. Unfortunately, his arousal is steadily growing out of control.

  
Bellatrix quickly looked for the book to get back to his Master. The books are arranged alphabetically, except for a few books which had obviously strayed from its proper place.

  
When Bellatrix finally found the book, she couldn’t help but frown. It was positioned quite a distance from above her head on the towering shelf. Being of small stature, she tried to reach the book despite knowing that it’s too far out of her reach.

  
Bellatrix sighed frustratingly. She tried to glance around to find a nearby stool, but froze when she felt a presence behind her.

  
Suddenly, Voldemort was pressing against her from behind.

  
Bellatrix’s eyes widened as she was pressed between his body and the shelf. It turns out Voldemort had to stand tiptoe to reach the book above her.

  
As he leaned against her she vaguely felt something brush against her waist. She licked her lips in anticipation.

  
Voldemort slowly moved away from her but not completely, making them only inches apart as he showed the book to her.

  
Bellatrix felt excitement at the close contact; they were too close that she still could not turn around and face him.

Voldemort simply handed her the book. She received it while still facing the shelves.

Voldemort did not respond, and simply stayed, blocking her from moving away. Not that Bellatrix wanted to, anyway. She could feel Voldemort’s breath on her nape as he leaned to inhale her scent.

  
Voldemort raised his hand to stroke her curls and Bellatrix reddened in response. His hands went to tuck strands of her hair behind her ears. He was slowly easing himself against her, and Bellatrix started to lean back to feel more of him.

  
Bellatrix moaned a little as she felt his surprisingly warm breath against the shell of her ear. It was oh-so-gentle, and Bellatrix wondered if she was simply dreaming. She melted at his gentle caress of her neck, and the slow but deliberate licking on her ear. She responded by rubbing her buttocks on the hardness behind her.

  
All of a sudden, Voldemort grabbed her jaw roughly.

  
Bellatrix felt pain as her neck was forcefully turned sideways.

  
“You seductress,” Voldemort growled from behind her.

  
Bellatrix was surprised to hear his seemingly needy yet angry voice.

  
Voldemort grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him. He shoved her against the bookshelves hard, and some books fell over at the force, including the book she held. Bellatrix whimpered in fear but did not verbally protest.

  
Seeing her afraid seemed to goad Voldemort more. He lunged to bite her neck and then followed the mark with his tongue. Hearing her moan, his hand went to her shoulder blades and caressed her. With his other free hand he grasped her buttocks to press her more against him, alternating between rough and smooth strokes.

  
Bellatrix’s hands went to feel his chest, which was surprisingly toned. Her hands moved to remove his robes, and this seemed to snap Voldemort back to his logical self.

  
A burning anger suddenly burst out of him. He was angry at Bellatrix for seducing him; angry at himself for giving in to his desires.

  
In a fit of rage, he threw Bellatrix to the floor.

  
She fell hard on her side, and her eyes darted to Voldemort’s towering form. She was surprised to see that the confusion on her face also reflected Voldemort’s expression.

  
He turned away from her, closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. The surge of power he felt in the way he handled Bellatrix seemed to be the major factor for his arousal. Yet he asked himself why Bellatrix. He could demonstrate his power on any woman. Grab a whore for a night and be done with it. It’s less dangerous than going back to the same woman for the following nights.

  
As Voldemort was alone with his thoughts, Bellatrix crawled towards him. She understood his anger, in a way. But she thinks she knew better; her Lord’s arousal was evident by the lump that formed on his robes.

  
Voldemort’s thoughts were interrupted and completely disappeared as he felt Bellatrix breathe against his crotch. His eyes snapped open and looked down at Bellatrix. She was on her knees, and Voldemort twitched at the feeling of her warm breath.

He knew he could not deny himself any longer.

Bellatrix slowly lifted her hand to open his robes. To her surprise, Voldemort's hand shot to stop her.

He shoved her hand away and suddenly left her kneeling there. He walked back to his desk without looking at her.

Bellatrix slowly rose and followed him. She looked alarmingly at his face, trying to look for signs of disapproval. _What have I done now?_

Voldemort's face, however, was devoid of any emotion. His crotch was blocked from Bellatrix's view but she suspects that he's still hard.

Finally, Voldemort faced her. He was clenching his jaw, as if trying to suppress himself.

"You may go, Bella." He stared impassively. He looks at her as if she's not really there.

Bellatrix knew better than to argue with her Master. Not this time when he appears to be distant. She bowed with a disappointed look, and promptly walked to leave the room.

Voldemort stared at her retreating back as she exited and closed the door. As soon as Bella was gone, he closed his eyes, swallowed a lump on his throat, and deeply sighed.

Voldemort felt _greatly_ unsatisfied, but was glad that he regained his control.

He turned to his books and sighed again.

He needed a shower.


	3. Flames

 

Bellatrix did not know what she had done wrong. For the past few days since his last encounter with his Master, Voldemort never again called for her. She was even excluded from a recent Death Eater meeting in the Malfoy Manor. When she attempted to enter the meeting room uninvited, she saw that there were low-ranking Death Eaters guarding the doors. It was unusual as they usually don’t bother with putting door guards. As if the guards were placed just for her. True enough, they stopped her from going further and told her Voldemort’s will.

_“Madame Lestrange, forgive us but the Dark Lord ordered us to not allow you to participate. He wanted you to know that you will be called in the case that you are needed.”_

It meant the Dark Lord currently has no use for her.

It was unacceptable. She was his best lieutenant, and she should be involved in all of the Inner Circle’s plans.

Bellatrix knew that it was because of the incident a week ago. 

She remembered how he cursed her for being a seductress.

 _But I only did what I was told, didn’t I?_ She consoled herself.

Bellatrix Lestrange _is_ a defiant witch; always a rebellious one back in her school days at Hogwarts. But through the years, she learned to suppress herself and submit to her Master. She knew all too well the punishment for insolence.

 _I should apologize,_ she thought to herself.

The worst punishment that Voldemort can give her is completely ignoring her. She’d accept a thousand lashings or hours of the torture curse if it meant garnering attention from her Master.

_It’s certainly better than being ignored._

After rehearsing her apology in her mind, Bellatrix got up from sitting on the windowsill of her room, determined to see her Master. She quickly went to the main hall where Lord Voldemort’s office is located. As she neared the door, she heard her Master shouting from inside.

“Silence!” It was not exactly a shout, more like a loud hiss.

Bellatrix immediately stopped in her tracks. She bit her lip in anxiety for hearing her Master raise his voice like that. She decided to listen to the muffled voices to get an assessment of the situation before barging in.

There was a long pause, and Bellatrix could feel the tension inside the room.

Slowly, Voldemort began to speak.

“It was a mission I believed you could accomplish easily.” He spoke carefully, and his followers all knew by experience that a grave punishment will follow whenever he spoke like this.

“You need only raid the Prewett manor to threaten their relative Weasleys. No need for a skirmish. Intimidate them with curses, and leave after assuring that they have fully submitted to fear. And now you are telling me… you have _failed_?” Bellatrix flinched at the severity of her Master’s tone. She could not hear the muffled responses through the door, and she imagined that those inside were cowering in fear of their Lord.

Suddenly, terrible screams rang out of the room and Bellatrix instinctively moved away from the door. A couple of sobs and pleads for apology were heard along with the crackling sound of the Cruciatus curse. It went on for several minutes; for a moment, Bellatrix thought the punishment would never end.

Finally, Voldemort spoke slowly, “Avery, Nott, Lestrange. You have all failed me. I expected more from all of you.”

Bellatrix grew anxious upon hearing the names. Lestrange. Rodolphus Lestrange. She hadn’t seen her husband since their release from Azkaban.

Voldemort continued, “You have received your punishment; but know that I have not yet forgiven you fully, until you have proven yourself useful to me again.”

Thinking the conversation has ended, Bellatrix prepared herself to barge inside the room but then someone spoke,“I-I can still prove myself, my Lord, let me get my revenge by hunting the Prewetts!”

Rodolphus’ voice echoed “I agree, Master. We know where they have fled. We-“

“You must think highly of yourself, if you considered fighting with those wounds.” Voldemort’s voice grew colder as he scolded his Death Eaters.

Bellatrix heard no response, and she took this as a cue to barge inside the room.

Voldemort’s head snapped up upon seeing her walk in uninvited. The three kneeling Death Eaters slowly and cautiously turned their heads around. Rodolphus’ eyes widen as he saw his former wife. Not that they had officially divorced, but they both knew that their release from Azkaban meant a new life. The only thing that binds them together now is their devotion to the cause.

Bellatrix did not even spare a glance to the kneeling men. Her eyes followed her Lord the moment she came in. She slowly knelt, with her head raised, looking directly at her Master.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes on her. Despite kneeling like the two, she exuded an air of confidence bordering on arrogance.

 _She knows_ , he thought. She definitely knows that Lord Voldemort deemed her higher than most of his Death Eaters. Everyone knows; even if Voldemort hated to admit it. She was, and will always be, his favorite. And there are times like these that she just loved flaunting it. Those are the moments when Bellatrix irritated him the most. It makes him want to remind her of her place. Makes him want to hurt her by treating her like the rest of them.

“Forgive me for my intrusion, Master. But _please_ , allow me… to continue this mission for you.” Bellatrix spoke slowly, seductively. She purposely chose words that will appeal to Voldemort’s sense of superiority.

 _The nerve._ Voldemort scoffed, “And you think you’re capable?”

Bellatrix bowed, “It’s true, Master… that I haven’t faced battle in the past months since I’ve returned.” She lifted her head and dared looked at him straight in the eye. “But I have finished recovery. All this time waiting, I am more than ready.” She paused and gathered her nerve.

“I never failed you, haven’t I?” She paused, seemingly waiting for Voldemort’s answer.

Rodolphus glanced at her in horror. Voldemort simply raised his brow on her. For some reason he felt proud by her bravado.

“…I have not failed you in the past, My Lord. And I never will.” Bellatrix finished, her eyes pleading.

Voldemort knew her capabilities well, he personally trained her in the Dark Arts. He had seen her battle, and it made her proud. For a moment he thought of going with her but not helping her – just to see her up close while she unleashes her spells. Voldemort found the idea appealing as it has been a long while since they have been in battle together.

He shook his head, and he was reminded why she kept Bellatrix at bay for the past months. She always made him remember the past, incited feelings in him that should already have vanished.

Still, Bellatrix completing the mission sounds more plausible than sending any other Death Eater.

Voldemort looked impassively at Bellatrix, “Very well.”

Bellatrix’s eyes lit up in excitement. She smirked in anticipation, “Thank you master! I shall depart immediately tonight at midnight, My Lord.”

Voldemort gestured to the kneeling men in front of him, “Coordinate with these three to determine the location of the Prewetts.” He turned to Bellatrix with a glare, “But you will be doing this mission, _alone_. Understood?”

Bella nodded vigorously, “Of course Master. I shall not fail you.”

For a moment, Voldemort stared at her adoring eyes. He then sighed to himself and quickly turned away to leave the room.

 

* * *

 

It was nearing midnight. Voldemort leaned back on his chair and allowed himself a break from planning his collusions in Wizarding Britain. He rubbed his temples as he stared at the maps, letters, and newspapers he was examining on his desk. Voldemort thought that good fortune was on their side when the Ministry for Magic did not believe the Potter boy’s claim that Lord Voldemort was back. Albus Dumbledore, however, believed the boy. Voldemort was sure that Dumbledore would start gathering his allies again in an effort to stop him.

Voldemort sighed. It was his mistake to allow the boy to escape the graveyard.

Suddenly, the grandfather clock in the library chimed, and Voldemort was pulled away from his thoughts. It was dangerous, for him to stop thinking about his plans even for a moment. It will cause his mind to wander to something else… Some distraction that he should not be minding…

_Bellatrix._

Voldemort stared at the clock signaling midnight and weighed his options. He decided that he simply needed to see how she was doing as he cannot have another failure after the previous one. Voldemort stood up and called Rodolphus in his mind. He needed to know where Bellatrix was.

 

* * *

 

Voldemort stood there in silent awe. A large fire was burning at the foot of the hill he was standing on. The house that was initially there is slowly turning into ash, its inhabitants’ cries drowned in the sound of fire roasting the wood.

“My Lord!” Bellatrix cackled as she saw her master standing on top of the hill, overlooking the masterpiece she created. She immediately apparated to his side. Voldemort did not turn to meet Bellatrix’s gaze, focusing instead on the scene before him.

 

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort inhaled the smell of the burning wood. This was a sacrifice she dedicated to Him. He relished in the powerful feeling of a Master accepting the offering of her servant. After what seemed like an eternity, He turned to her. To Bellatrix’s surprise, Lord Voldemort’s eyes reflected her desire, as the warm color of the flame dyed His blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to emphasize that the story will focus more on behaviors and attitudes of characters, and not much on the larger, overarching story of the Wizarding World.
> 
> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Bellamort shippers, unite!


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